


Mía

by twyly56



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental biting, Adorkable Simon Lewis, Asexual Raphael Santiago, Asexuality Spectrum, Background Camille Belcourt, Blood, Clan Leader Raphael Santiago, Clary Fray & Simon Lewis Friendship, Cute Simon Lewis, Cute Simon Lewis/Raphael Santiago, Downworlders, Glasses, Homoromantic Raphael Santiago, Hotel Dumort, Human/Vampire Relationship, Mundane Simon Lewis, Not Really Set in Canon, Possessive Raphael Santiago, Protective Raphael Santiago, Raphael Santiago Has Feelings, Raphael Santiago Speaks Spanish, Scenting, Scents & Smells, Simon Lewis Loves Raphael Santiago, Simon is Too Curious For His Own Good, Singing, Vampire Raphael Santiago, Vampires, vampire mates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-18 02:40:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16986606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twyly56/pseuds/twyly56
Summary: Simon hadn't meant to be in East Harlem this late at night. He gets mugged and knocked unconscious in the process. Raphael finds the mundane nearly on the doorstep of his Clan's hotel. He isn't really sure why he helps him. Then, he smells the reason in the boy's blood.





	1. Chapter 1

Shivering slightly in the late autumn air, Simon set off down the sidewalk, intent on getting home before the rain got any worse. The soaked red, orange, and yellow leaves stuck to the bottoms of his sneakers as he walked down the empty sidewalk, and a harsh wind blew his fluffy hair in all directions. Simon kept his eyes on the sidewalk since looking straight into the wind was stinging his eyes.

A tap on his shoulder stopped Simon in his tracks as he turned around. A man about the same height as him, dressed in mostly black, stood beside him, the shadow from his hood covering most of his face apart from his nose and mouth. He had one hand in his pocket and the other outstretched in front of him, holding a pocket watch with a crack in the glass clock face.

"Excuse me..." the man began in a deep voice. “Could you possibly tell me what time it is? I’m afraid my watch is broken,” he chuckled, gesturing to the broken pocket watch in his hand.

"Oh, it’s..." Simon pulled his phone out of his pocket and squinted at the time. “Nine pm, exactly.”

"Oh, dear." The man frowned. "I’m going to miss my bus now... and I don’t have a way to contact anyone to pick me up. Oh well." He shrugged, a smile almost instantly appearing on his face. "I’ll simply have to keep walking."

"It’s raining so much, though, and you don’t have an umbrella," he said. Simon bit his lip. "Are you sure you don’t want me to call a taxi for you or something? I’ll pay for it."

"That’s not necessary, trust me. It’s only about a twenty minute walk to where I live. My apartment is right near the park," the man replied.

"Oh, my college is right around there too! If you want, we could walk there together. I have an umbrella, so you won’t get as wet," Simon offered. 

"Thank you very much," the man said, his brown eyes sparkling in the barest hint of light from the streetlight. "I’ll have to repay you somehow, though."

"You don’t have to, honestly," Simon insisted. "I’m just helping you out, you don’t have to do anything in return."

"But I feel like I should, though. You’re taking time out of your day to walk me to my apartment, after all. I just need to repay you..." the man repeated.

"I mean… if you want to, but it’s honestly not necessary," Simon said. 

The man nodded slowly, a wide smile overtaking his features.

"I think I’ll repay you by taking that wallet and jacket off your hands," he said in a hard voice. 

Simon frowned at the sudden, threatening change in the man’s words and tone. Before he could ask what he meant or attempt to run away, the man had violently grabbed him and tugged him into a nearby alley, one hand clamped firmly over his mouth and the other slicing at the zipper of his raincoat with a pocket knife that had seemingly materialized out of nowhere. Letting out a muffled yell of protest, Simon desperately tried to force the man away from him, simultaneously trying to hold onto his jacket that was being ripped away from him.

Within seconds, however, the man had ripped the jacket - somehow still in one piece - off of his body and had plunged his hand into his pocket, grabbing his wallet. As soon as he had pulled out the wallet and stuffed it into his own pocket, the man punched Simon hard in the stomach, knocking the breath out of him and causing tears to well in his eyes out of pain. He sank down to his knees and landed on his side in a mud puddle, unable to even get a scream or yell of help out. His vision faded into black as his head smacked hard into the brick wall. 

 

He was walking back to the hotel when he heard a struggle going on. It was not entirely out of place for their to be fighting between the mundanes at this time of night. There were plenty of drug addicts, thieves, and criminals of all sorts that were in East Harlem. His dark eyes landed on the pair. The smaller male form was knocked to the floor by the other's blow, and dirty water splashed up around him. 

Raphael found himself lunging forward, feet light and silent as ever, at the hoodie wearing mundane and baring his fangs, a long feral hiss falling from his red lips, before he even registered what he was doing. The mundane yelped and jumped back from him. His mortal heart beat wildly in his chest from the fear. The younger looking teen was let go of, and the sound of the thief's footsteps rang out against the cracked asphalt as he sprinted down the street. Raphael glared in the retreating figure's direction for a moment, quivering with an irrational surge of anger and something else. 

The vampire shook himself mentally, and his fangs slid back into his gums. Raphael tilted his head to the side and regarded the unconscious teen slumped against the wall, perplexed. He was not quite sure why he felt so... protective of the mundane. As far as he could remember, he had never even seen the boy before. It was all very strange. He usually had a perfect grip on his more animalistic impulses. The vampire knelt beside the boy, and he idly moved his face from side to side with a cool hand. The mundane remained limp and pliant despite the touch he gave. 

The boy seemed to be unconscious but otherwise not seriously harmed. A cut on the side of his temple caused a dribble of deep red liquid to slide down the side of his face, down his smooth exposed neck, wetting his shirt collar. The dark green fabric turned red from his blood. The boy had brown hair sticking up every which way and pale skin that looked even paler in the dim light of the moon. His eyes were hidden behind cracked, round plastic frames, and Raphael could not tell the color because the lids were shut in the current state he was in.

Raphael gingerly put his arms under the mundane and lifted him up easily with his supernatural strength. The boy's head lolled back against his chest, and the vampire's nostrils flared as the coppery scent of blood drifted up to him. His pupils dilated, and he felt his stomach flutter in an odd way for a moment. Raphael shifted the mundane boy in his arms and leaned slightly closer to inhale his scent, deeper this time. The vampire sighed when he felt the same feeling again. 

"Oh, Dios," Raphael murmured. He hummed softly under his breath, shaking his head. 


	2. Chapter 2

His cheek was pressed against something cool and smooth. The young man cracked his eyes open blearily. Vague, dull colors blurred slowly into focus as he blinked. Simon let out a moan of discomfort, and his hand knocked against what felt like a pillow of some sort as he squirmed. He peeled himself off the cloth covered surface with some difficulty. His limbs felt a bit like they were filled with lead. A consistent painful rhythm beat behind his eyes, growing more present the more he moved. He squinted against the dim yellow light that flooded his vision. 

Everything was a bit blurry, and he touched his face and realized with a frown that his glasses weren't on his face. The familiar plastic frames were not there to there to knock against his fingers. There was something that felt like a bandage just beneath his hairline on the left side of his face, though. Simon patted by himself on the bed, but he couldn't feel them. He felt confused and disoriented and didn't really know what was going on. Simon noticed a brown fuzzy shape that he assumed was a small table by the side of the bed, and he reached out to touch it. He nearly knocked off his glasses clear off the table, and he had to lurch forward to catch them, almost falling off the bed in the process. His head spun nauseatingly, pounding angrily in protest. 

Simon pushed himself back into a sitting position, and he slid his glasses on. There was a crisscrossed line of cracks all along the left lens, and the arm felt like it was going to fall off at any moment. He pushed it up his nose as it tried to slide off with a grimace. His jeans and the back of his shirt seemed damp, and he vaguely recalled falling into a puddle. Simon rubbed his bare arms with a shiver, goosebumps rising on his skin. A fire burned steadily on the other side of the room, letting a dry heat bleed into the right side of his body. Careful not to shake his head as he moved, the young man crawled off the bed and stood up. 

He had to grab onto the table as the room tilted around him, and he almost fell on his face. Simon shakily pushed himself up, his legs taking a moment to stop feeling like jello, and he let go of the table. He walked toward the fireplace, thankful for the warmth it gave off. He held out his hands, and the tingling numbness in his fingertips receded. The young man turned his back to the fireplace and took a moment to take in his surroundings. Other than the bed and the table, there was not much else in the room at all. A light layer of dust covered most of everything of the old fashioned room. It was sort of like he was in a castle or maybe an abandoned hotel. Where was he? 

Oh God, had that guy kidnapped him? Simon had a moment of pure panic rush through him at the thought. He was just a normal eighteen year old boy that was going to college soon. He didn't know why anyone would want to kidnap him. Simon swallowed as all sorts of scenarios ran through his mind, each one worse than the last. His eyes landed on a long tan colored box underneath the shuttered window. Wait a second... was that a coffin? He walked a bit closer to it, and yeah, it was a coffin. Simon stepped away from it, chills running down his back, and he crept over to the door. He wrapped his fingers around the doorknob and twisted it. 

And of course it was locked. Simon jiggled it uselessly for a few moments before he let go. He peered through the cross shaped opening in the upper half of the door. The hallway beyond was dark and empty. The faint sound of the crackling fire was the noise that reached his ears. Everything else was eerily silent. Simon hit his fists against the wooden surface of the door. It seemed obscenely loud, ringing out in the room. His heart pounded in his chest, and the hair on the back of his neck stood up. There was no response. That was both relieving and disheartening at the same time. 

"Hello? Anyone? I'm just an accounting student. I have no value to - to anyone! And - and I didn't even see your face, so if you let me go, I - I - I couldn't even identify you," Simon said. He swallowed, his breathing becoming a bit erratic in the resulting silence. He leaned closer to the little window. "Please? Is anyone there?" 

Suddenly, a face appeared in the cross shaped window, and Simon stumbled back with a little gasp. The door was opened, and the stranger entered the room, slamming the door behind him. Simon kept backing up, heart in his throat. Dark, intense eyes stared him down. The back of his legs hit the coffin, and he had to reach back to avoid falling on top of it. 

"Well, if your goal was to scare the crap out of me, then mission accomplished!" Simon blurted. 

The stranger didn't say a word as continued to stride toward him. Everything he did seemed to have a sort of preternatural grace. Simon couldn't help but be mesmerized by his deep brown eyes, practically black in the dim light of the room. He distinctly felt like helpless prey before a predator, about to be eaten. This didn't seem like the guy that had mugged him. His skin tone was different than the few slivers of the man's face he had been able to see from beneath the dark hood. This man wore an all black suit that fit him like a glove, and he had stunning Latin features. Simon had known for a while he didn't really have a preference for who he would find attractive, but _wow._  

Shit. Focus. Stop thinking about how that. 

"You don't-" He swallowed around the lump in his dry throat, eyes wide behind his glasses. "You don't need me." 

"On the contrary. I do," the stranger said. His smooth voice, with the undercurrent of a Mexican accent, sent little shivers all over his body. "But perhaps we can talk about that another night." 

"What do you mean?" Simon asked. 

"Dios. You know nothing, do you?" the man said. 

"Nothing, as in - as in what?" Simon asked. The man's lips lifted up slightly, and he saw a hint of fangs in his mouth. His breath caught in his throat. "Are those real?" 

The man pushed a bundle of something black at him, and Simon grabbed it almost mechanically. He looked down at it and realized it was a raincoat. 

"I am going to take you home, and you are going to stay there. You are not to come back here under any circumstances. Do I make myself clear?" the man said in a stern voice. 

"Cr-crystal," Simon responded. 

"Put that on," the man commanded. Simon quickly slipped his arms into the raincoat and zipped it up, pulling the hood over his head. His fingers picked at the almost too long sleeve nervously. The man's fingers wrapped around his bicep, and Simon shivered. His skin felt cold even through the jacket. "It is not safe for you here. This is not your world. I can only hope that you heed my advice." 

Several questions swirled around in Simon's head, but only one popped out of his mouth. 

"Who are you?" Simon asked. 

"Raphael," was the man's reply.

He pulled the door open again, and he began to lead Simon down the darkened hallway. Raphael did not seem to need any light to navigate his way through wherever they were, walking with a quiet surety that was oddly comforting. A pale man with braided blonde hair crossed their path close to a doorway, and he was shocked to hear a low hiss come out of Raphael's mouth. Yeah, those were definitely fangs. Oh dear God. The blonde blinked in surprise but quickly retreated back into the room from where he had just exited from. 


End file.
